


nothing i hate more than what i can't have

by massivdisaster



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Mutual Pining, Pining, drunk pining, lord help these two, stupid idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23225923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/massivdisaster/pseuds/massivdisaster
Summary: They watched Albus take the shot and start coughing. James laughed. Scorpius didn’t.He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Albus had been holding him, gentle and unafraid. Ever since their ‘adventure’, he’d become more carefree, ready to take on anything, while Scorpius had reigned himself in, afraid of disaster at every turn.He stared at the glass of water in his hand, looked up at James, and nodded.“I’ll take one.”“One...what?”“Impossible Shot.”--aka scorbus gets drunk, and can I just say, yikes
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	nothing i hate more than what i can't have

It took Scorpius far too long to realize why everyone at the party was acting squirrelly.

“Are they all drunk already?”

Albus’s eyes were shining as he nodded, excited at the prospect of joining the older kids filling the Gryffindor common room. James had gotten them invited, much to the chagrin of his friends. Scorpius wasn’t thrilled about being there either, truthfully, but Albus was, and he refused to let Albus go alone, so here he stood.

“I think so! I bet someone’s passing around the Impossible Shots James was talking about. I heard you only need one and you’re good for the rest of the night! If you take a second one, you actually  _ blackout _ . Wicked, innit?”

Scorpius grimaced. That didn’t sound “wicked” to him, it sounded like hell.

“I’ll stick with the punch, thanks.”

“Scorp,” Albus whined, leaning into him. “Come on, when are we going to get another chance like this?”

Someone snickered behind them and Scorpius pushed Albus away from him gently, embarrassed. Albus had seemed to have lost all sense of concern for how other people saw them; Scorpius was not as lucky. He still felt the way people’s eyes lingered; the way they whispered in the hall when they passed, snickering and gossiping. No, Scorpius was not as carefree as Albus, who was able to laugh everything off now because he’d “been to hell and back, so who cares what they think?” Albus, who got detention fifth year because he got caught with his hands down the pants of a seventh-year Ravenclaw boy, and who hadn’t bothered to give Scorpius an explanation for weeks. (When he finally did, it was with a heavy sigh and an annoyed “Can we please change the subject? God!”) Albus, who had started poking fun back at Polly Chapman until they were actually friends enough to hang out at Hogsmede when Scorpius wasn’t feeling up to going. Albus, who (pretty frequently now) would grab Scorpius’s hand in the halls, cuddle closer than normal during movie marathons with his family, sit nearly on his lap at breakfast, kiss Scorpius on the cheek when they were parting ways…

Albus, who was grabbing his hand at this party and touching the small of his back to lead him to the table at the edge of the room piled high with alcohol. James met them over there, no longer bothering to ask why Scorpius looked so flustered.

“Pick your poison, gentlemen.”

“I want the Impossible Shot,” Albus said at the same time Scorpius squeaked out “I’ll just have a water, thanks!”

James gave them both a look, his question drowned out by Albus’s protest.

“ _ Water _ ?”

Scorpius ducked his head, trying to gently step out of Albus’s grasp, but Albus wasn’t having it.

“Scorp, come on! I thought you said you’d at least have the punch!”

“I changed my mind, Al, please…” He squirmed, but Albus shifted his grip so his arms were locked around Scorpius’s waist firmly.

“Really not your thing, huh?” James muttered to Scorpius quietly. Scorpius shook his head.

“You’re not even going to  _ try  _ to have fun?”

“Albus, come on, please…”

Albus wasn’t letting go, instead ducking his head even more into Scorpius’s personal space and lowering his voice. Their faces were inches from each other, and to anyone else, it might have looked...dangerous.

“What’s going on? Are you feeling okay?”

The entire world seemed to go quiet and Scorpius felt too many eyes staring at them. He could almost hear the whispers, the gossip, and--god, if word of this got back to his father?--

“Albus, stop it, come on.”

James, voice of reason, Scorpius’s hero, light of his life, pried Albus away from Scorpius with a dramatic sigh. Scorpius refused to look at the disappointment he knew was on Albus’s face; he just wanted to curl into a ball and vanish.

“What’ll you have, boys?”

Shannon, a seventh-year Hufflepuff, was acting as bartender for the night, already grabbing glasses for them. James signaled for two Impossible Shots and one water, Scorpius thought, until Shannon produced the other way around.

“So you don’t have to babysit all night,” James said, cheersing to Scorpius and drinking his own glass of water. “If you want to bounce, I won’t blame you. This is kind of a lot.”

“But Albus--”

“Albus will survive without you for one night, Scorp, don’t worry.”

They watched Albus take the shot and start coughing. James laughed. Scorpius didn’t.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Albus had been holding him, gentle and unafraid. Ever since their ‘adventure’, he’d become more carefree, ready to take on anything, while Scorpius had reigned himself in, afraid of disaster at every turn.

He stared at the glass of water in his hand, looked up at James, and nodded.

“I’ll take one.”

“One...what?”

“Impossible Shot.”

\--

Being drunk was not nearly as fun as everyone made it sound. Scorpius had expected to feel deliriously happy, elated, even. Instead, he felt slightly dizzy and like his eyes couldn’t focus on anything. His mind kept wandering, losing minutes at a time of conversations, only to refocus and find out he’d wandered into another group of people entirely while trying to remember the names of the people in the first group. It wasn’t fun, and he could hardly imagine why people would like to feel this way, much less every night.

Albus did not share these sentiments, clearly. He was laughing, making friends with everyone, slurring and stumbling all over the place. Frankly, it scared Scorpius, because Albus was chaotic enough sober. Taking away his judgment skills was a surefire way to cause disaster of enormous proportions.

But there was no disaster yet, thanks to James. Scorpius was eternally grateful that he wasn’t the one in charge of Albus because he wasn’t sure their friendship would have survived this. As it stood Albus had his hands all over anyone within reach, including his own brother. He didn’t seem to notice (or care) who it was; as long as he was draped or leaned over someone, he was happy. A couple of times, Scorpius even saw him burrowing into someone’s neck, whispering into their ears, too close to be anything but evocative. He didn’t want to think about it too hard, so he turned back to his conversations and tried to actually pay attention this time.

A few time lapses later, Scorpius was alone, leaning against one of the windows. He prayed he didn’t remember any of this in the morning; the sucker-punch feeling of hearing “I’m quite glad to be friends with Voldemort’s son” wasn’t going to go away with time unless he didn’t remember it at all.

He felt a hand on his back and he flinched away, rubbing as many of the tears away as he could. “S-sorry, stupid face is...leaking…”

“Scorp?”

He didn’t want to look at Albus, but then Albus was taking his hands and leaning into view, looking the most unhappy he’d been all night.

“Hey, Scorpius, what happened?”

“Aw, is he  _ crying _ ?”

Scorpius flinched again as some of the Gryffindors laughed loudly. The room was overwhelming and he wanted to go home, back to his bed, where nobody could laugh at him or tease him again.

“Leave it alone, Ledbetter!”

James came to the rescue again, shielding Albus and Scorpius from the taunts and starting to usher them out the door. At some point, Albus slipped his arm around Scorpius’s waist, and the blond leaned on him heavily, hiding his snotty face in Albus’s hair.

“...I’m sorry. Tonight was supposed to be...they’d promised to be nice, Scorpius, I--”

“It’s not your fault.”

It wasn’t. It was Scorpius’s fault, for believing that anything was going to be different. Albus could redeem himself because he had his siblings and his family name to back him, but Scorpius wasn’t that lucky. He had a history of Death Eaters, dark magic, horrible stories and horrible people shadowing him, so even when Scorpius tried, he was still a pathetic Malfoy, corrupting everything he touched.

“Still. I promised to keep you both safe, I just…”

“Being drunk brings out true colors, right?” Scorpius sniffed, wiping his nose on his arm and leaning more into Albus. “They may not say it sober, but they still think it.”

“They shouldn’t.”

Albus didn’t sound drunk anymore. He sounded sober, painfully so, and angry. Scorpius almost started crying again.

“Al, please, I want to go home, I want to go to bed, don’t start tonight…”

And this time it was Scorpius locking on, leaning into him, burrowing into Albus’s neck, letting his arms rest just above where was socially acceptable. Albus froze for a second, then pulled Scorpius tighter to him and nodded.

“Yeah, come on. Uh, James--”

“I’ll see you both at lunch. Drink some water for me.”

The walk back to the Slytherin dorm was slow, but Albus was warm, and Scorpius was getting less drunk the longer he was away from the party, he thought. The come-down was nice; the world stopped spinning, he could feel his fingers again, and his brain was able to function the way it normally did.

Their room was cozier than ever and Scorpius almost cried of happiness when he was able to collapse on his own bed. Complicating matters, however, was that he was still latched onto Albus, and was now crushing him. But he was still comfortable enough to try to sleep.

“Scorp? Can you get off? I--”

“No. Warm. Stay here.”

“Scorpius, please, come on.”

Scorpius shifted and Albus made to get up, but he wasn’t fast enough. The blond lifted his best friend onto the bed and started koala cuddling him tightly.

“Scorpius!”

Albus was warm, so warm, and Scorpius suddenly felt the elation he’d expected from being drunk earlier. He was happy here, happier than he’d ever been cuddling with his best friend and deliciously drunk and--

Albus’s face was inches away, eyes searching for something, and suddenly he leaned forward. Scorpius prepared himself for his first kiss, but it never came. Albus reached over him and turned on the lamp, simultaneously dislodging himself from Scorpius’s grip.

“Can I tell you something?”

Scorpius just nodded, eyes unfocused but pointed where Albus’s face had been just a second ago.

“I think I--I mean, I think that we, you and I, uh--”

Scorpius shut his eyes. All his fuzzy feelings about wanting Albus to kiss him were fading, instead replaced with nausea. He didn’t want to have ruined his only friendship, but--

“I love you. And it terrifies me.”

The words swam in Scorpius’s head for a second before he pulled himself up, pried his eyes open to look at Albus, and laughed.

“I scare you?”

Albus laughed too, quickly, ashamed. “No, not you, just--I...I don’t want to lose you, as a friend, if it goes south, but I’m tired of not...I don’t like lying to myself, or to you, and--”

Scorpius was definitely still drunk, as leaning forward and smashing his mouth to Albus’s wasn’t scary at all.

The rest of the night was mostly a blur of them trying to talk but getting distracted with kissing or wandering hands. Scorpius kept gigging, and he found that if he kissed Albus’s ear, Albus would start laughing too. Then Albus would kiss him fully, hands latched into Scorpius’s hair, whispering things, and then they’d pull back and repeat. Eventually, they must have fallen asleep, because the next thing Scorpius knew, someone was pounding on their door.

“Are you guys alive in there? Al? Scorp?”

Albus groaned and pulled the covers up over their heads. “No.”

Scorpius gave a loud, unintelligible groan, and the pounding ceased. Albus kissed his neck softly as a thank you.

Then they both froze.

Albus sat up, shaking his head, grabbing for the blanket when he realized he was only in his pants.

“What the  _ hell _ ?”

Memories of the night before started trickling in slowly and Scorpius sat up too, rubbing his head. He remembered relatively surely that they were doing that kind of stuff before bed, right? But Albus seemed terrified, unaware, as if he didn’t remember.

“How much did we have to drink last night?”

“I only had one,” Scorpius said slowly. The pounding on the door started up again. “Did you have two?”

“...yeah. Uh, did--did we--shut UP!”

Albus threw the closest thing at the door, which happened to be one of their jackets; it fell limply right off the side of the bed.

“No, we didn’t...you know. Together.”

Scorpius swallowed harshly, his mouth running dry. He hated lying, but Albus seemed genuinely distressed by the idea that they had done anything; how would he react to find out the truth? To find out he’d confessed his love?

“Uh--can we--can we not talk about this? To anyone?”

Something in Scorpius’s chest rattled hollowly, but he nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

And so it went for the next few weeks. People loved Albus at the parties, so he got invited without interference from James. Scorpius didn’t go the first time, but apparently Albus started crying for him, so he started going. Albus took his touchiness to a whole new level; he wouldn’t let go of Scorpius, even for a second. And he started every party off with two Impossible Shots, which meant he never remembered anything in the morning, which caused a bit of a problem.

The problem was laced in the fact that Albus decided he was going to make out with Scorpius. A lot. Sometimes getting handsier than best friends should. And since Scorpius was never sober during the parties anymore, he let him, getting drawn in, then the connection abruptly broken the next morning. Wash, rinse, repeat. For the first few weeks, it was heartbreaking, but as time went on, Scorpius got used to it; he no longer felt anything when they kissed, or when Albus freaked out the next morning. He even started getting bold, initiating it, getting even handsier than Albus was, and leaving first the next morning.

The final party of the winter semester, Scorpius decided to take his boldness to a new level. When he and Albus took their first shot, Scorpius motioned for a second one as well.

“You’re having two?”

Shannon was understandably confused, but apparently the look Scorpius gave her was enough of an explanation. Albus grinned and they downed it together, relishing in the way it burned.

The next morning, Scorpius woke up first, completely naked and sore all over. Upon further inspection, he had hickies everywhere, even in indecent places, and he felt really sore; not as though he’d been treated, but had been doing some kind of rigorous exercise. Albus looked even worse than he did and Scorpius deduced the Potter boy had been on the receiving end. 

His chest felt empty. He hollowly put Albus in some trousers, carried him over to his bed, and left the room.

He didn’t see Albus until they got on the train, and even then, they didn’t speak. Albus kept looking at him, something shining in his eyes, but Scorpius ignored him. It was a lonely ride, but he felt better being alone this time.

Christmas break was quiet. His father was distant, as he always was this time of year; Christmas had been Astoria’s favorite holiday, and it stung a little more every year she wasn’t there to celebrate. For the first time in many years, Scorpius wasn’t waiting at the window for owls, because he didn’t think Albus would write. However, a few days before Christmas, something tapped on his window.

James’s owl.

Scorp,

Hi. Happy Christmas--hope this finds you well. I know it’s been almost

a week since holiday started, but I hadn’t heard from you and wanted to make sure everything was okay. Last time you didn’t write, it was your mum, so I’m hoping the

situation isn’t that bad again.

I also wanted to ask about what happened right before we left. I know you 

were avoiding me on the train, and that morning I woke up in a kind of weird situation and I couldn’t remember what happened. Do you know?

I included a gift, but if you don’t have one for me you don’t have to worry

about it. I just wanted to send it since I already had it for you.

Sincerely,

Al

Scorpius sighed. The gift included was a set of specialty inks: disappearing, spelling-correcting, scented, color-changing. It was something Scorpius had joked about asking for, but never thought he’d get, as it was ridiculously expensive for what it was. He’d forgotten the Potters were rich, though, and spending the money wasn’t a problem for Albus.

He reluctantly packed up the gift he had for Albus--a gilded notebook, one that would help organize notes and things, and periodically spit out words of encouragement. Albus’s name was embossed on the front, a special splurge. Scorpius had saved up his own money for months to be able to afford it. After about an hour of deliberation, wherein James’s owl was impatiently nipping his hand, he sent the gift without a note. He wouldn’t know what to say anyway. Albus never remembered them declaring love for each other, so finding out they’d slept together couldn’t possibly go well.

He trudged downstairs to show the gift to his father, but his father was brooding in the living room by the fire, so he changed his mind and went back upstairs.

The rest of the break, he didn’t hear from Albus at all, which he was grateful for. Having to keep ignoring him would have hurt even worse.

January came far too fast, and the Malfoy house had been quiet for days. The hustle and bustle of the train station was almost overwhelming, but the train compartment was quiet, so Scorpius finally got the chance to start his new book.

The door to his cabin slid open, but he didn’t look up. He assumed it was an older classman, there to tease, or someone not realizing he was there. When he didn’t hear it close, he finally sighed and looked up to give them the attention they wanted.

It was Albus.

“You’re alive.”

He looked worse for wear, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. His hair was much longer than when he’d last been near Scorpius; part of his mind wondered what it would be like to run his hands through it while they made out.

“I am.”

His voice was hoarse; he hadn’t spoken since the party, he remembered distantly. Albus ducked his head, shifting nervously.

“I thought I’d done something.”

“You didn’t.”

Albus sniffed, staring at his feet. Scorpius took a moment, then went back to his book.

“You can sit, if you’d like.”

“Do you want me to?”

Scorpius looked up at him dryly. Albus chuckled, then slipped into his seat--not across from Scorpius, as usual, but next to him. Scorpius shifted uncomfortably, but he didn’t move away like he wanted to. After a moment, Albus kept staring at him, and he sighed.

“What did I do?”

“I told you you didn’t do anything.”

“Clearly I did, you aren’t even speaking to me.”

“I’m reading.”

“You were always excited to see me before. And you didn’t write, so--”

“I know. Did you like your gift?”

Albus went silent for a second. “It was amazing. Definitely a nice surprise.”

“I’m glad. Took me a while to save up.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you like yours?”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to use them.”

“I know you had talked about them--”

“I did, thank you. I really wasn’t expecting it.”

Scorpius’s voice had softened against his will. He chanced a glance at Albus. His best friend was staring at him, leaning against the wall, and smiling, barely. Scorpius gave him the barest hint of a smile back, then turned back to his book.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. It continued all the way through their arrival, dinner, and the entire walk upstairs. Once they arrived to their room, Scorpius found with horror that the room smelled rank; not like they’d left something sitting out, but like...teenage boy things. Horrible, awful teenage boy things.

“Oh, god…”

Scorpius kept his face as straight as he could and moved to put his bag on the bed, but Albus grabbed his arm.

“We did, didn’t we?”

“Don’t remember,” Scorpius said, trying to pull his arm out of Albus’s grasp. Albus didn’t let go.

“Scorpius, come on, you must have some idea? I just know I woke up in a cold bed, and you were gone, and--now this, and you’ve been ignoring me--”

“I had two Impossible Shots that night, Albus, I genuinely don’t remember. I just woke up with--”

His voice caught as he felt the tears well up. He hadn’t really thought about the situation until now; he’d accepted the facts, but not what they meant. And it clearly bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

“Scorp--”

“Leave me alone!”

He ran to the bathroom and slammed the door, covering his mouth to stifle the sob. His chest ached; he missed his best friend, but his best friend was the problem now. Without realizing it, Scorpius’s feelings had moved from crush straight into love, and what did he have to show for it? Albus never remembered anything, and he never wanted to talk about it, so that was that. That was the end. They wouldn’t be together, and Scorpius had indulged himself in the fantasy too long. He let himself cry, ignoring the silence from the other side of the door. Albus was probably disgusted and requesting a room change first thing in the morning.

After an hour, he didn’t have any tears left, so he wiped his face and stared at his hands. What would he do now?

“Do you want some water?”

He jumped; Albus’s voice had come from the other side of the door.

“Or chocolate? I have some snacks, from Christmas…”

“Yeah,” Scorpius croaked out. A chocolate frog pushed itself under the door, and Scorpius took it gratefully. “Thanks.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“...for what?”

Albus didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Scorpius watched the shadow shift, imagining the way Albus’s face screwed up when he was thinking too hard.

“...I know you didn’t want that, with me, so I guess I used the parties as an excuse to let myself...I dunno, experience what I’d never have otherwise? But it wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Scorpius tilted his head and knocked it against the doorframe on accident. He groaned; Albus’s fingers drifted under the door again.

“Are you okay?”

“You--what? I thought you couldn’t remember anything?”

Albus laughed uncomfortably. “After that first party, I only started taking one instead, so I could remember the next morning. You never seemed to want to talk about it, so I just...didn’t. But that last party, you wanted a second one, so I--”

“I thought  _ you  _ were the one who didn’t want to talk about it.”

Albus went quiet. Scorpius scrambled up and pulled the door open, frowning. Albus stared up at him, lost. He really needed a haircut; it was so long Scorpius could barely see his eyes.

“You mean to tell me this entire time we just...we could have been together? And I wouldn’t have had to cry in the library on Mondays?”

“You scheduled time to cry in the library?”

“That’s not the point here.”   
“Geek.” Albus choked out a laugh; Scorpius realized with a heavy heart that Albus had been crying too. He knelt down, grabbing Albus’s hand; Albus squeezed back tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Al, I didn’t...I guess I thought you would never…”

“I thought the same thing about you.”

Albus looked away then, but Scorpius wasn’t having it. He took his free hand and pulled Albus to him, kissing him unlike any other kiss they’d shared. It was gentle, and kind, and full of apologies. Albus kissed him back the same way and they stayed there for a few minutes, reveling in it. Then Scorpius pulled back.

“I’m sor--”

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

Albus stopped his apology short, blinking. Then he smiled slowly.

“...yeah.”

\--

The final party of the year, Albus and Scorpius didn’t attend. They were too engrossed in themselves, having a movie marathon before they split for summer break; they promised their newfound party friends they’d be back come the fall, but tonight was for them. There was no longer any awkwardness for them. They fell into their relationship easily, as if they’d always been in one. Maybe they had. But as Scorpius kissed the chocolate off Albus’s mouth, he thanked his lucky stars that he’d taken the most impossible shot of all.


End file.
